


Age High

by Optronix



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Card Games, Cheating, Drinking, Fun, Gen, Poker Nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4304364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Optronix/pseuds/Optronix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz manages to talk Prowl into playing poker with him (for his own sweet purpose) and a few other Autobots. Prowl regrets his decision entirely even when he discovers he's quite good at Poker - and knowing when Sideswipe's lying through his teeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Age High

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaverniusTucker (LamboTwinsGirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LaverniusTucker+%28LamboTwinsGirl%29).



> Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.

It was getting late, Prowl knew that, though he didn’t realize just how late it was until he checked his internal chronometer. It was a quarter to ten. Most mechs were in their assigned quarters by this time, readying themselves for a night of recharge. Prowl stood to do the same. He was just straightening up his desk and filing away datapads when someone knocked at his office door. 

“It’s open,” Prowl called. A moment later, he was greeted by a flash of a brilliant smile and the glimmer of a visor. Jazz plopped himself down on top of Prowl’s desk, scattering a few un-shelved datapads to the floor.

“Must you?” Prowl sighed, kneeling down to collect them.

“Must ya beh so uptight?” Jazz retorted. Prowl rolled his optics, sliding the datapads into a drawer in his desk.

“I’m going to take that question as rhetorical seeing as you’ve asked it before,” Prowl replied simply, finally looking at his guest. “What do you want?” Jazz’s smirked told Prowl it was something undoubtedly that Prowl would dislike.

“See, da last Friday of each month es Poka Night an’ wiff Smokescreen stuck en da Medbay, weh need anothah playa. Ratchet an’ Wheeljack shot meh down. So did ‘Raj an’ Hound. Da Minis ain’t playin’ so yer next on da list tah pestah.” Jazz leaned over to Prowl, his lips mere inches from Prowl’s. “Will ya play?” Prowl’s resolve was crumbling. He did not want to partake in such a childish game as Poker; but Jazz was incredibly hard to resist. 

“…Fine. I shall play.” Jazz beamed, his lips pressing to Prowl’s for a short kiss.

“Yer da best, ya know.”

“So I’ve heard right before I do something I’m going to regret.”

~~

“Remembah,” Jazz whispered to Prowl as they walked into the Rec Room together. “Don’t drink anythin’ Sideswipe gives ya. Et’s always spiked wiff somethin’ or othah.” Prowl nodded.

“Understood.”

Gathered around a collapsible metal table were Sideswipe, Tracks, and Blaster. Blaster seemed to be adding to a carving on the table top while Sideswipe was building a poorly structured card castle. The poorly structured part was proven when Tracks kicked the leg of the table causing the castle to fall. All three looked up from what they were doing when Jazz sat down and swept the cards into his servos. 

“Are you serious, Jazz? Out of everyone on base, you picked Prowl?” Sideswipe asked incredulously. Prowl took the remaining seat as Jazz shuffled. 

“Everyone else was buseh,” he replied simply, dealing out two cards to everyone. “Blastah, da chips.” Blaster nodded, getting up to get small containers Prowl assumed to hold evenly distributed chips. When given his box, Prowl noticed how Sideswipe’s had quite a few more than Tracks’, not that the mech noticed. 

“Anteh up,” Jazz ordered, throwing two white chips into the center of the table. The other three followed. Prowl looked over the labels. White – 1 point, red – 5 points, green – ten points, blue – 25 points, and black – 50 points. He put two white chips in and looked over his cards: eight of diamonds and a six of hearts. He was calculating the possibilities of card combinations when Sideswipe nudged him.

“You gonna bid or what?” Prowl glanced at his cards, his box, and his adversaries. Sideswipe looked annoyed, Blaster content, Tracks’ digits twitched around his cards, and Jazz was unmoving, unreadable. He picked up a red chip and threw it in. Everyone followed. Without a word, Jazz flipped over the top three cards. The king of clubs, three of diamonds, and the nine of diamonds laid before Jazz. Prowl noticed how Sideswipe squared off his shoulders and Blaster bumped his peds together. Tracks’ digits twitched again. Jazz however, still remained closed-off and emotionless: the perfect poker face. Prowl knew it quite well for he had mastered it as too, eons ago. 

With another nudge, Prowl decided that after every flip of a card, a new bid must be made. He compared his cards to the three on the table. He threw in another red chip. Sideswipe did the same, but Tracks threw in a green one.

“I’ll see your five and raise you five,” Tracks informed the table. Blaster smiled, throwing in a green and a red. 

“I’ll see your ten and raise ya five, man.”

“Dere’s blood en da water tahnight,” Jazz stated, throwing in a red and a green. Prowl deduced that everyone must pay the same for each round and put a green chip in to even his standings with Blaster and Jazz. Sideswipe put a green chip in too, but didn’t look happy about it. Tracks put in a red to even his score. 

“Ay call,” Jazz said as he turned over another card. Then it all started over again. The bidding was getting higher and higher. Apparently everyone liked the seven of spades that had been placed in the center. By the time that round was over, Prowl had put in another twenty chips. Everyone was eyeing the line up as Jazz revealed the final card. 

Blaster swore under his breath. Tracks smiled happily as did Sideswipe. Jazz shot Prowl a smile. 

“Whatcha gonna bid, Prowler?” he purred into Prowl’s audio, quiet enough that the others couldn’t hear. It was that moment that Prowl realized why Jazz had asked him to play. He hadn’t gone to anyone else, only him, and it was because Jazz thought he could manipulate Prowl because of the bond they shared. Jazz was assuming that he could make Prowl come undone, mess up, be defeated by such tactics. Prowl would not let it happen. 

Looking between his hand and the cards displayed before them, Prowl saw he had a four card straight. He threw in a green chip. Blaster folded his cards onto the table when it was his turn to bid; Jazz did the same. Sideswipe smirked triumphantly. 

“Okay Prowl, let’s see your cards,” Sideswipe asked, his optics glimmering. Prowl laid his cards down for the others to see. 

“Four card straight,” he announced. Sideswipe nodded in approval.

“Not bad,” Sideswipe commented. “But not good enough either.” Sideswipe had a straight as well, but his cards started higher than Prowl’s, Jack to eight. Sideswipe moved to take the pile of poker chips, but Tracks swatted his servos away. 

“I believe this is game,” he said, laying his hand down to show them another straight, but it consisted of ace, king, queen, and jack. Sideswipe glared at him.

“Fragger,” Sideswipe exclaimed as Tracks took the pile, grinning smugly.

‘So this is how this game is played,’ Prowl thought as he looked around at his opponents. ‘Through deception, cheating, and reckless betting.’ Prowl thought some more as Jazz collected the cards. He realized that they hadn’t shown him how to play. They were ruthless. The unspoken goal was not to win, but to make sure Prowl was going to lose. He could play that game just as well as they were attempting too. He would come out on top. Prowl would make sure of that.

As he took the cards from Jazz and shuffled them, he Googled the rules to all games played in casinos and downloaded them; the rules for Blackjack, Five Card Draw, Texas Hold ‘Em, and more flashed before his optics.

“Is it dealer’s choice?” Prowl asked tentatively. Jazz flashed him a smile.

“Course et is.”

Prowl dealt out five cards to each mech.

“Ante up.” They all put in two white chips.

Prowl looked his hand over and liked what he saw. Four out of the five were diamonds and without drawing he had a four card straight. He easily suppressed his smile.

This time Sideswipe puffed out his chest, his optics telling Prowl he had a good hand. Sideswipe threw a blue chip in.

“Ballsy fragger tonight, aren’t we?” Tracks sneered, putting in a blue chip as well.

“Might as well make my rewards high.”

“Who said you’re going to win?” Blaster asked as he and Jazz both saw Sideswipe’s bet. Prowl put in two blue chips. He was sure Sideswipe was going to fall out of his chair.”

“Damn Prowl!”

“Something wrong?” he asked calmly, his expression neutral. 

“Maybe you are bad at something,” Sideswipe replied, putting in another chip along with everyone else. 

“Sideswipe, do you want a card?” Prowl asked the frontliner.

“Gimme one.” They traded, Prowl giving him a card. Sideswipe squared his shoulders again. Prowl recognized that whenever a hand went south for him, that his shoulders moved. Now this was useful information. 

Tracks traded in three of his cards to Prowl. His digits twitched. Prowl noted that Tracks’ warning sign for a bad hand was the twitch of his digits. It was almost unnoticeable to untrained optics, but Prowl’s optics were anything but untrained.

Blaster exchanged two cards and his face told the table that he was happy with what he was given. Prowl decided Blaster was always an easy read. Jazz flashed Prowl his ace and traded his other four cards in. Prowl exchanged two of his cards was and instantly satisfied with the results.

Sideswipe started the bidding up again. Green and red chips poured onto the table from all sides. Then it was Prowl’s turn and he didn’t start them off easy: two blues. Sideswipe added two more blue chips into the pot, so did Tracks. Blaster folded. 

“Too rich for my blood,” was all he had to say. Jazz looked Prowl over then folded as well. That’s when Prowl went after them. Two blacks from his box hit the pit. Sideswipe shook his helm.

“You’re going to regret that.”

“I regret joining this game in the first place. I might as well make it interesting.” Sideswipe narrowed his optics, placing two of his own black chips in. Tracks’ digits twitched as his announced he was folding. It was just Prowl and Sideswipe now. 

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Prowl stated nonchalantly. Two aces and two fives were placed on the table along with a sad looking ten. Prowl smirked.

“And you thought you actually had something.” Prowl splayed out his hand of red.

“Son of a bitch!” Sideswipe shouted, shoving away from the table. “I’m getting a drink.” 

“Who the hell gets a straight flush in Five Card Draw?” Blaster muttered as he got up to get a drink as well. Jazz followed suit. Prowl let his victory smile shine for a second or two longer before returning to his usual emotionless state.

Prowl took the cards, shuffled them, and placed them in front of Sideswipe’s spot. The three of them returned, settling back into the hard backed chairs. Sideswipe slid Tracks a cube of high grade. Jazz’s words floated back to Prowl.

‘Don’t drink anythin’ Sideswipe gives ya. Et’s always spiked wiff somethin’.’ That in mind, Prowl didn’t know what to do with the cube Jazz had just given him. Jazz glanced over at him.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked, sipping his cube. Without saying a word, Prowl took Jazz’s cube from him and replaced it with the one Jazz had given him. Jazz chuckled, smiling knowingly. “Have et yer way,” he said as he sipped the new cube. Sideswipe was proving to be able to shuffle, deal, and drink all in one fluent motion. Each of them had two cards. They were back to playing Texas Hold ‘Em.

Everyone threw in their ante. Everyone called, even Sideswipe. After the last round, everyone was light on chips, except Prowl, of course. Sideswipe’s expected shoulder squaring pleased Prowl, as did Tracks’ digit twitch. Everyone could hear Blaster quiet string of profanities. Jazz laid his hand face down on the table, leaning back on two legs, sipping his cube. 

“Bad round, boys?” he asked, trying and failed to hide the glee in his voice.

“Shut up, Jazz,” Tracks growled. 

A few white chips worked their way into the pot, but nothing more. Sideswipe laid another card down. 

“I fold,” Tracks and Blaster announced together.

“Sah-prize, sah-prize, sah-prize,” Jazz drawled, swirling the energon in his cube around. Prowl wanted to see what the final card was before he would contemplate folding. His battle computer ran all different numbers and the odds of certain numbers being drawn depending on what was visible. If it would only be a three…

As Jazz threw in a red chip, a servo wondered over onto Prowl’s leg. Prowl knew exactly who’s servo it was and why it was there. Prowl ignored the gentle touch as he put in a red chip to match Jazz’s. Sideswipe did the same.

The last card was a three, perfection in Prowl’s optics at that very moment. Another three was already up and he held a three in his hand. That would be hard to beat with the cards presented to them. Sideswipe folded with a groan. It was down to Prowl and Jazz.

“Betcha yer cards aren’t dat good, Prowler,” Jazz whispered into his audio, his servo moving up Prowl’s leg.

“We’ll see after you lay your hand down,” he replied, disregarding the sensors that were feeling the pleasure on his leg. Jazz grinned cheekily.

“Dat weh will.” Jazz’s hand was almost identical to his own. The big difference was that Prowl’s other card was higher, though not by much. Jazz had pocket twos with a two to match in the river.

“Ah well,” Jazz said coolly as Prowl drug his second pot over to be sorted into his box. Jazz’s servo was getting dangerously close to his panel. Prowl downed the rest of his cube as Tracks got the cards and shuffled them. 

“Would anyone else like another cube?” Prowl asked politely, getting up. Jazz’s servo was left stranded on the metal of the seat. If Prowl had not been waiting for the sound, he would not have heard it. Jazz’s vocalizer gave out a short, high pitched whine that everyone else easily overlooked. Prowl’s wings fluttered.

“Sure, I’ll take another,” Sideswipe said without looking at him. Prowl took his cards from the table so no one could look at them. It was going to be a long, no doubt interesting night.

~~

As Jazz laid his hand down, Sideswipe swore loudly, throwing his cards onto the table. 

“Screw you, Jazz!” Jazz chuckled, taking the heaping pile of loot from the middle. 

“Not mah fault yer judgment sucks when yer drinkin’ high grade,” Jazz countered, sorting out his chips. Prowl had folded after the first hand. He had a sense that it would be a long, pointless round, and he’d been right. The only reason Sideswipe had been stupid enough to hang in for so long was because he was overcharged and believed that two sixes was a good hand. 

“It’s midnight, guys,” Blaster told them, standing up. “Ay gotta hit the sack. Ay’ve got the early shift and Red’ll skin me alive if I fall asleep.”

“You’re just wimping out,” Sideswipe retorted. “You’re just sad that you’re getting your aft whooped.”

“Am not,” Blaster snapped, shutting his box and placing it on the counter. “Night all.” 

“Well Poker isn’t any fun with four people. Now what are we going to do?” Tracks asked, drinking his cube. Jazz looked thoughtful.

“Wat about Hearts?” Sideswipe’s interest level peaked.

“I’m game,” Sideswipe said. “Though what’s it going to cost? Since we can’t finish the game, credits are suspended. What’s up for grabs for the winner?” Jazz thought about it. His smile did not reassure Prowl.

“Winnah gets tah frag da losah,” he decided. Sideswipe and Tracks nodded as Jazz dealt out the cards.

“Queen don’t break, jack o’ diamonds minus’ ten from da takah’s score. Whoeva breaks fifteh first loses,” Jazz explained, sorting through his cards as he spoke. Prowl sorted through his as well. He had a little of everything. He had namely mediocre cards, except for an ace and two queens. What to pass was the question that plagued him now. After a minute of calculations and hardcore guesswork, Prowl passed Sideswipe the ace of diamonds and his only hearts. Jazz gave him all high spades that included the queen. Prowl didn’t show any sign of discomfort from getting the queen. He started the round since he had the two of clubs. Tracks took the trick and the next two to follow. 

Jazz was the one to break hearts. Prowl ended up taking the trick. Sideswipe smirked.

“Looks like we found a game he isn’t that good at,” Sideswipe boasted. Prowl said nothing towards Sideswipe’s remark. After careful calculations, Prowl was the only one with spades left. An idea struck him. What if…?

Jazz, Tracks, and Sideswipe nailed Prowl with hearts. He moaned and complained like he knew he should so they wouldn’t get suspicious of his plan. 

Prowl laid his last card in the center of the table, the queen of spades. He took in the last four cards, victorious. 

“Bad luck man,” Sideswipe said, not sounding like he felt bad at all. “Better luck next round.” Prowl picked up his pile of hearts and spread them out for Sideswipe and Tracks to see. He knew all three were counting. The high grade had made Tracks and Sideswipe careless. Prowl knew that Jazz had figured out what he was doing and there was nothing he could have done about it.

“What did you just say? ‘Better luck next round’?” Prowl asked, looking smug.

“Frag it!” Sideswipe yelled. Just then the door of the rec room banged open. 

“Will you pipe down?! There are other bots who are intent upon recharging!” Ratchet snapped angrily. 

“No!” Sideswipe shouted back. “Prowl went and shot the damn moon!”

“I don’t care if Prowl became President of the United States! If you don’t shut the frag up, I will force you,” Ratchet explained vehemently, pulling a wrench from subspace to enforce his threat. 

“Alright, alright! No need to be hasty!” Sideswipe replied with wide optics, putting his servos up. “I’ll tone it down a notch!”

“Damn right you will.” Ratchet subspaced the wretch, gave Sideswipe one last glowering look before turning on his heel, leaving them to their game.

“Grumpy old hypocrite,” the frontliner muttered darkly under his breath. 

It took two bad hands and an endless amount of cheating to bring Prowl down. Tracks and Sideswipe teamed up against Prowl. Even full of high grade, both were still pretty good. Between Jazz’s teasing and the fuzziness in his processer, Prowl had a difficult time focusing. His battle computer screamed different results that he couldn’t understand because his helm hurt so much. After his defeat (by a very slim margin, mind you), Sideswipe keeled over, passed out cold. Tracks stumbled to the door, smashed into the wall, and fell over, offline as well. Later on, Prowl would come to realize that both mechs and spiked the other’s drink. Jazz leaned over, his servos gliding up Prowl’s wings, his visor a brilliant blue. It was then when a piece of the puzzle was found. Jazz had spiked his own drink, knowing Prowl would make him trade. Clever conniving bastard. 

“You…spiked my cube…” Prowl slurred.

“Yep. An’ et looks like Ay’m da winnah,” Jazz said with a grin. He slid into Prowl’s lap.

“You planned…all of this…didn’t you?”

“Naturally. Why leave et all tah fate?” Prowl shook his helm, but stopped because it was pounding too much for his liking.

“Only you could…could plan a-a poker game…” Prowl looked into the visor as he spoke.

“Ironic, ain’t et?”

“Extremely.” That made Jazz’s smile grow.

“Since Ay’m da winnah, Ay getcha anyway Ay want.” Jazz sealed the promise with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This was way too much fun to write.   
> Please Review!  
> ~Nix


End file.
